Advanced Healthcare Management
by Horsebot3000
Summary: After Annie is taken ill, it's up to Jeff to look after her.


**Advanced Healthcare Management**

**Disclaimer: **Community isn't mine. Damn it.

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><p>"I'm sorry I'm late!"<p>

Jeff glances up briefly from his phone as Annie stumbles into the study room and slides into her seat. Then he does a double take and looks at Annie properly.

"Geez, Annie. When did you die and get reborn as a character from the Walking Dead? You look like crap."

And she does. Her normally bright blue eyes are half shut, red rimmed and watering and her porcelain skin is a pasty white apart from two spots of colour high on her cheeks.

"It's just a virus or something, I'll be fine." Annie says through a thick voice. She pulls a crumpled tissue from the sleeve of her cardigan and blows her nose. Shirley shoots Annie a sympathetic look but shuffles her chair closer towards Pierce's end of the table.

"I think you should go home to bed, Ann-ie, you don't look well and I really don't want your germs. I've got a husband and three boys to look after. We can study when you're better."

"I can't go home!" Annie moans. "I've never taken a day off sick in my life. I mean, except for that time I had off after my nervous breakdown. But considering I dropped out completely, I don't think that counts."

"Have you forgotten the part where we're at Greendale, Annie?" Jeff asks, putting his phone down momentarily. "I seriously doubt you're going to miss anything important if you go home."

He braces himself for an increasingly high pitched rant from Annie about the importance of education and how she'll have a gap in her audio recordings of all her classes, but Annie is drooping in her chair and looking like she just might agree with him.

"Holy crap, you actually _are_ sick. Right, get up, I'm taking you home." He shoves his phone into his jeans' pocket and tucks his biology textbook under his arm.

"Jeff, I can get home by myself." Annie protests meekly, but when she nearly falls over from the effort of standing up, Jeff wordlessly grabs her backpack and takes her arm to lead her out of the room.

Jeff is kind of glad it was only the three of them meeting up for their History of Reality Television study session and not the whole study group. He's certain Britta would have some psycho-babble to throw at him for volunteering to do something nice for a girl that doesn't have the end game of getting into her pants by the end of the night.

They eventually make it to his Lexus, and Jeff is amazed that Annie even managed to get out of bed, let alone make it to school.

"Annie, how did you get here today?" he asks as he helps her into the front seat.

"Drove." She mumbles.

"What the hell?" Jeff takes a hurried glance around the parking lot and finally spots Annie's beat up little blue hatch parked up on the curb and halfway into a hedge. He fires off a quick text to Shirley, who has an impressive collection of spare keys to all of their cars and apartments that makes Jeff pretty nervous at times when he's sitting at home in his cleansing face mask watching Real Housewives of New Jersey, and asks her to move Annie's car to an actual parking spot.

Annie's asleep and drooling by the time Jeff pulls up at the apartment building. She wakes up as he's unbuckling her seatbelt and tries to get out of the car herself.

"Urgh!" she mumbles as her legs give out and she lands on the sidewalk. Jeff glances at Annie's running eyes and nose and then down at the brand new shirt he's wearing and wonders whether it would make him a jerk if he takes it off before carrying Annie upstairs. Then he remembers that it is machine washable and he easily lifts Annie up into his arms. She's like a dead weight as he struggles to grab her bag and shut the car door, so he shifts her so that she's hanging over his shoulder and his arm is wrapped around the backs of her thighs.

He has to set Annie down in the hallway so he can open the apartment door. "Troy! Abed!" he calls out as he carries Annie in and kicks the door shut behind them. The apartment's empty and he can't hear any sounds from the Dreamatorium as he takes Annie through to her room and puts her down on the bed.

Now that he's got Annie home, Jeff isn't actually sure what to do with her. He'd expected Troy and Abed to be here so he could leave Annie under their supervision. But now that he thinks about it, those two would be about as useful for looking after a sick Annie as a moisturiser for normal complexions would be on his combination skin.

A quick hunt through the apartment later and Jeff finds a note sitting on the kitchen bench informing Annie that Troy and Abed have heard about an auction of authentic reproduction Inspector Spacetime memorabilia in Denver and that they'll be back tomorrow.

"Crap." Jeff glances over to Annie's door where he can see her sprawled on her bed exactly where he left her. He texts Shirley and asks her if she can come over and look after Annie.

His phone rings. "Shirley? Can you come over?"

"Oh, Jeffrey. You know I can't risk passing on whatever Annie's got to the boys, especially Ben. I can bring over some supplies, but maybe you should call Britta?"

"Are you serious? I suppose I could put an eye patch on Annie and Britta might mistake her for a one eyed cat and her nurturing instincts might kick in."

In the end, he does call Britta, only because he decides that Annie really should be in bed and the thought of even taking off her ballet flats and unbuttoning her cardigan to make her more comfortable is making him equal parts horny and guilty.

Britta arrives with an armful of supplies from her homeopath, which Jeff kicks under the couch while she's taking off her coat.

"Okay, Doctor Doogie Seacrest, let's get her into some pjs."

Jeff looks at Britta in alarm and starts backing out of Annie's room. "Uh, you don't need me for that."

"Come on, Jeff. Surely you can contain your craving for young flesh for five minutes. I can't do this by myself."

He awkwardly holds Annie up, his eyes firmly screwed shut, while Britta eases her out of her clothes and puts on a light pair of sleep pants and a tank top.

"She's feeling pretty warm, maybe we should try some of the homeopathic water I brought?" Britta says, resting the back of her hand against Annie's forehead.

"Maybe we should save those big guns for now, Britta. I'll get something cool to put on her head." Jeff hunts through the bathroom and discovers Annie's neat stack of face washers with their carefully crocheted lace edges. He fills up a bowl with cool water and takes them back into Annie's room. She's looking flushed and her hair is starting to stick to her face and neck.

"Uh, Britta? You think you should put her hair back?" he calls out. Britta is banging around in the kitchen.

"You do it! I'm going to make some lentil broth."

Jeff gives a shudder, but turns his attention back to Annie. He finds a few hairbands in a container on her dresser and he sits awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

"Ok, this should be relatively easy." He mutters to himself. In the end, he has to scoot closer to Annie and pull her forward to lean against his chest so he can sweep up her hair and quickly twist a band around it.

She murmurs as he lays her back against her pile of pillows and he smooths back a few loose strands of hair clinging to her face.

Her eyes partially open. "Jeff?" she croaks.

"It's okay, Britta and I are going to take care of you." He tells her. He swears he sees a flash of panic in her eyes before her eyelids flutter close again and hopes it's because Britta's here and not because he is. He mops at her brow for a while and then places the cool cloth across her forehead.

Jeff finds Britta in the kitchen stirring something that smells like old gym socks and fights the involuntary urge to gag.

"You do realise we're trying to make Annie better, not kill her, right?" he asks, peering into the pot to see a grey liquid with a few lumpy bits floating through it.

"Uh, hello? Which one of us is committed to healing people?" Britta asks, her hands on her hips and the spoon from the pot dripping broth all over the floor.

"You're a psych major, not a doctor."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

Jeff rolls his eyes. His comeback is interrupted by a knock at the door and he opens it to discover Shirley wearing a surgical mask and gloves and holding two grocery bags.

"Hell-oo! Can't stay, just wanted to drop off some soup and things for Ann-ie. What is that smell?" Shirley bustles into the kitchen and blanches at Britta's broth.

"It's lentil broth. My homeopath swears by it." Britta informs her.

"I've told you before what I think about your gay friend and his opinions, Britta. Chicken soup is what Annie needs."

Jeff leaves them to bicker and checks on Annie. She's somehow managed to half kick off her covers and she's flushed and sweating.

"Shirley? A little help?"

From the safety of the doorway, Shirley instructs them to change Annie into some fresh clothes and change her sheets, then to sponge her down with some cool water.

Jeff's concern overcomes some of his reluctance to handle Annie and he cradles her on his lap while Britta strips and changes the sheets with surprising efficiency. Annie's radiating heat against him and her eyes open and close a few times.

"Don't go, Jeff," she mumbles, clutching onto his shirt.

"I won't." he replies, tightening his hold on her ever so slightly.

For the next few hours, he and Britta take turns sponging down Annie's limbs and trickling water through her parched lips. Shirley has left a detailed set of instructions and promises to come back if they need her.

Annie is restlessly moving around and mumbling nonsense and Jeff's starting to get really concerned.

"Shouldn't she be better by now?" he asks Britta.

"Jeff, she's fine. We just have to keep her cool and the fever will break soon." Britta glances over her shoulder back and him and something in his face must show how anxious he his. "I'm positive she'll be okay, but if you're still worried in the morning we can take her to a doctor."

Jeff hasn't really ever been around sick people. He can't remember he or his mother having anything more serious than a cold, and it's not like he bothered to check up on any of the women he was seeing when they said they were sick. But this is _his_ Annie and there's a horrible gnawing sensation in his stomach when he looks at her laying there looking so sick.

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><p>It's nearly 3am and Jeff is sitting up on the bed beside Annie, dabbing carefully down her arms while Britta is curled up in Annie's small armchair, snoring inelegantly.<p>

He puts his hand against her brow and lets out a sigh of relief as he realises it feels cooler. She even looks better and she's resting quietly instead of moving around. By now Jeff has memorised the list of instructions Shirley left, so he knows he should cover Annie up. He carefully tugs the towels from underneath her that they put down to keep her sheets from getting damp while they sponged her, then pulls up her covers.

Britta's sleeping in the room's only chair and he doesn't want to sleep out in the living room in case Annie needs him, so Jeff decides he'll rest for a minute on the bed beside Annie. He smooths back her hair one more time and the anxiety he's felt over the past few hours is subsiding now that he knows she's on the mend.

He doesn't mean to sleep, but the next thing he knows it's morning and Britta is seemingly banging together every single pot and pan she can find in the kitchen. At some point he's rolled closer to Annie and one arm is draped over her stomach. He pulls it back guiltily and wonders when Britta will come in to read him the riot act.

The movement wakes Annie and she blinks sleepily a few times until her eyes focus on him. "Jeff?" her voice is hoarse, so he reaches for a glass of water from her nightstand and helps her lift her head enough to take a few sips.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, obviously confused at finding Jeff in her bedroom.

"You've been pretty sick. Britta and I've been taking care of you." He puts down the glass and reaches for her hand to give it a squeeze. "I'm so glad you're better. Seeing you sick like that was awful."

"I bet I look pretty gross, hey?"

"That's not what I meant. I just hated seeing you feel so bad and not being able to fix it with a speech. I haven't really been around many sick people and it was pretty scary seeing you like that. You're important to me Annie."

Annie opens her mouth to respond, but Britta suddenly bursts into the room bearing a tray.

"Time for some broth!" Britta announces, putting the tray down on the nightstand and whipping the cover off a bowl. Annie looks a little green at the smell of Britta's lentil broth and Jeff can't blame her. It smells even worse than it did the night before.

"Britta! For god's sake, take that stuff away. Can't you bring in some of Shirley's soup?" Jeff scoots off the bed and goes around to cover the bowl of broth back up.

"Fine! But don't blame me if she relapses." Britta takes up the tray and flounces out of the room.

"Jeff? Can you help me sit up?" Annie asks hesitantly. "I don't think I can do it by myself."

He helps her to slowly sit up and then leaves his hand on her shoulder to steady her while he piles a heap of throw pillows behind her. "Do you need anything else? Name it and I'll get it. Except anything related to study."

"Je-eff! It's bad enough that I missed yesterday!"

"Well, you might have missed the actual classes, but Shirley told me last night that she got your spare tape recorder from your locker and organised some of your classmates to take turns recording lessons for you. So you'll have a nice big pile of notes waiting for you on Monday. But until then, you should rest."

Annie moans a bit more, but Jeff is insistent. He does, however, find a deck of cards and they play a few rounds of Go Fish while Britta's heating up the soup.

Troy and Abed arrive home a few hours later with armfuls of posters and action figures and Jeff figures that Annie is well enough to be left under their supervision but he's hesitant to leave. They've spent the morning playing cards after Britta went home to check on her cats, and Jeff is surprised at how enjoyable it's been. He also suspects that Britta is waiting until she can corner him on his own on Monday to lecture him about taking advantage of Annie while she was sick. Which is ridiculous, of course. As if he could help putting an arm over her while she was asleep. And besides, Jeff prefers the women he seduces to not be delirious with fever so they can appreciate the sight of his abs.

"Jeff, you should go home." Annie announces suddenly.

He looks up in surprise and a part of him is a bit hurt that she wants him to leave.

"Not that I want you to go, of course," she continues in a rush, and not for the first time he wonders whether she can read his mind or if living with Abed full-time has made her better at reading people. Neither is a particularly welcoming development.

"You've been here for over a day and you and Britta obviously didn't get much sleep. I'd feel so guilty if you got sick because you wore yourself out looking after me."

"I am a little tired." He admits. "Plus, I didn't get to do my night time skin care regime…uh, I didn't just admit that, ok? I must be more tired than I thought."

"Go home and rest. And exfoliate." Annie says, leaning over to put her hand over his. "And don't get sick, okay? I don't think I'd make as good a nurse as you."

"I don't know about that. Your efforts during the pillow fight were pretty admirable. Besides, I'm sure the addition of a suitably naughty nurse outfit would help."

"And regular sponge baths, I'm sure."

Jeff blushes. He kind of skipped over telling Annie that he and Britta had taken turns sponging her down during her fever and let her assume Britta did all that. Plus, the thought of Annie trailing a sponge over his bare chest…

"Ok, I'm going. I'll call you later to check on you." He jumps to his feet and then impulsively leans over and presses a swift kiss to Annie's brow.

As he drives home, Jeff wonders exactly how sick he'd have to be to qualify for some nursing from Annie. Then he remembers that at least one of Shirley's kids always has a cold at any one time and he sends a quick text offering to babysit the next time she and Andre want to go out.

The End.


End file.
